


The Memories of an Older's man Eyes.

by FallenAngel1804, Lucille_Waters



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Brain Tumour, Cancer, Cancer!ock, Character Death, Death, Depression, Dying Sherlock, Elderly John, Elderly Sherlock, Fluff, Hospital, Lies, M/M, Old Sherlock, Post-Reichenbach, Sad, So much angst, dying, old john
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-13
Updated: 2014-11-13
Packaged: 2018-02-25 05:54:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2610854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallenAngel1804/pseuds/FallenAngel1804, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucille_Waters/pseuds/Lucille_Waters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Its been 30 years since Sherlock died, now John at 60 years of age is visiting Sherlock's grave on their anniversary...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Memories of an Older's man Eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey this is my first Sherlock fanfic. The first paragraph is not mine, I found this on Johnlock prompts from Tumblr and was allowed to use it. This originated from when I was doing and RP on Omegle. Thank you to Lucille_Waters for letting me upload our story online. Thank to the anonymous impromptu and please kudos and comment. Thank you for reading.

The sky was grey with a heavy mist when John hobbled into the graveyard, a small, fond smile on his face as he hefted his bag of foodstuffs in the hand his cane wasn’t in. He gave a nod to the other stones that he’s practically memorized by now, slowing at the large tree with the lonely black slab of granite as the sides of his eyes crinkled. He set the bag on the dirt covering Sherlock’s casket, easing himself to sit. Getting out a box of cigarettes, he put each one to his lips, and flicked the dark blue lighter with a gnarled, veined thumb. He went on, lighting each and every cancer stick and giving a puff, before sticking the butts into the ground. The old doctor then poured two glasses of scarlet wine, setting one beside the small smoking pillars. He tilted his wine to his partner’s, giving a small nod as his hoarse voice crackled in the air, a gentle kindness still clinging to the edges of it. “Happy sixtieth, Sherlock Holmes,” he murmured fondly, only then letting a dull ache fall upon his chest. “Wish you could have been around for the last thirty.” His old ears could barely hear the rustle of the sickly bushes, still somehow able to cling to their weak leaves.

 

 

A man watched on, a small tear rolling down his cheek. This wasn't the first time he had seen John do this, and he was sure it wouldn't be the last. His chest tightened as he fought back the deep desire to walk out and embrace the doctor in a hug. Instead, he just stood there, watching on from beneath a nearby tree, his chest tightening as the longing to be held grew. "Thank you, Doctor Watson" he said in whispered tone. "Thank you for remembering me".

 

 

John sighed, a lone tear falling out of his eyes. He nearly lived his life. He was going to die soon. He didn't have any kids, a wife. He had no heir to leave his prospects too. He couldn't, Sherlock's death. It changed him, changed him badly. He just couldn't live without Sherlock. "Christ Sherlock I miss you so much" John cried out, tears finally falling.

The hidden man couldn't do it, he couldn't hold himself back any more. The years had softening him and he wasn't going to spend another year just sitting and watching. he took a step closer towards John, his eyes filling. "John...." he whispered, shuffling closer to him. "John..." he said, a little louder, his foot getting caught on the root of the tree, causing him to fall to the ground, letting out an agonizing cry.

 

John heard a cry in the trees and immediately looked to see what had made that noise. Probably an animal or something. He walked forward and saw a man on the ground, he hobbled over. His life not as good as it used to be "Excuse me . You alright?' he walked over, he saw a brief outline and immediately thought of Sherlock. John's eyes widened "Could it be?, no it couldn't be.

 

The man looked up at him, dirt from the ground smeared on his face, a small cut just below his eye. He reached up, his fingers cold and bony, his knuckles cracked from the harsh weather. His same old coat wrapped around him, looking just as weathered as he was. "I missed you too, John Hamish Watson" he whimpered, trying to block out the pain in his ankle. "I have always missed you".

"Sherlock?" John whispered. He looked at the face, it was old and wrinkly. His curly hair fully grey, he still had the same eyes though, the same piercing eyes. "Oh Sherlock. It is you!" John cried. He wrapped his arms around Sherlock. He couldn't believe this. Couldn't believe this at all. "Oh I missed you".

 

Sherlock let out a small sigh, the tears of all those lost years falling all at once. "Don't speak, just hold me, John...hold me like you used to".

John cried and whimpered into Sherlock's neck "Why didn't you tell me. Why didn't you tell me after all these years" John held Sherlock tightly, lying on the ground.

 

 Sherlock winced as he wiped his eye, the cut feeling sore as dirt was rubbed into it. "I wanted to, John...I always wanted to. I couldn't though...some things are best staying dead, or so I believed...until now"

 

"Well Come on, lets discuss this at 221B" John helped Sherlock up, even though it failed dramatically. They both hobbled towards the car park, "I have to call for a taxi". John whispered, his arm around Sherlock's waist. "Ill clean you up when we get home".

Sherlock shook his head. "No...I can't go, not now...not after all these years"

 

"But I need to spent time with you. Please Sherlock, I left it the same"

 

He reached up, holding John's face. "Time is the one thing I can't give you, John...I so wish I had done this sooner, but I was scared"

John held the wrist that held his face "Why didn't you come back Sherlock?. Why didn't you give me a sign that you were still alive"?. John's face glittered from the tears that pooled In the hollowed cracks of his face.

 

"I tried John...I wanted nothing more than to tell you I was alive but I couldn't...even as I grew older I was still going to be a threat. Now, there is nothing to fear from me. I am nothing but a harmless old man."

 

 John laughed "But you're my harmless old man." the cab finally came and John quickly jumped in, his leg in pain again. "I'll tell you what though, time is your friend. You aged better than I did".

 

He shook his head, sliding into the taxi next to him. "It may look like I aged well, but only on the outside. Inside is where all the damage is John...the damage that can't be fixed"

 

John frowned and looked outside he window "I know Sherlock. I've changed over the 30 years as well Sherlock. I'm not like I was anymore". It was true John's eyes had turned cold and hollow, instead of the warm and kind his eyes used to be.

 

Sherlock took John's hand, resting it on the right hand side of the top of his head. "Right there, John...that's where there is damage, damage beyond repair"

John nodded and leaned his head on Sherlock's shoulder "I guess we have to fix our scars together" he closed his eyes, he was happy

 

 "A month, John...tops. That's what I have been given. I wish to spend every last moment with you, however long it will be" he said, swallowing thickly.

"What do you mean a month Sherlock?" John frowned 'Whats wrong?"

 

He closed his eyes tightly, tears falling fast. "Brain tumor...growing more and more each day. There is nothing they can do to stop it. My entire brain is shutting down, memories fading each and every day"

 

John let out a whimper. He didn't reply but he moved his head from Sherlock shoulder and stared at the window. His fist was clenched in his mouth, trying not to sob. His face let out a water fall of tears. He couldn't believe Sherlock had to leave so soon as he came. It broke Johns heart.

Sherlock held him tightly, never ending tears falling. "I am so sorry, John...I want to stay, but someone out there has other ideas. I need to come back to you, John...to spend what little time I have left with the man I love" A lump formed in his throat as his voice became cracked. "When I die, it will be forever, John...I needed to give you your miracle before it was too late"

John shook his head and let out a strained breath "Its just. I thought I would've spent the rest of my days with you. I waited for so ,long for you to come back and then when I've just finally being ale to move on .you come back" John hitched his breath and shook his head " I don't know if I can do this again. I cant see you die Sherlock. Or at least let me die with you"

 

He reached in, brushing his dry lips against John's. "Your time will come, John...it is drawing close. I can see it in your eyes"

John cried before kissing Sherlock back, his tears staining their lips. "I've been dead for 30 years Sherlock".

His breath was raspy, through tears and age. "Just take me home and lay with me. I am tired, John...so very sleepy"

John nodded and kissed the palm of his dry, wrinkled hand. "Go to sleep now. Ill pay for the cab".

 

He shook his head. "Now is not the time to sleep. Now is the time to live, and be with you"

 

John smiled brightly and smiled "Whatever you say"

Sherlock let out a whimper, wrapping himself around John. "Perhaps a little rest won't do me any harm. I love you, John...and I will see you when I wake"

 

John wrapped his arms around Sherlock and kissed his forehead 'Go to sleep love"

Sherlock's eyes grew heavy as he sunk down into a sleep. "Goodbye, John" he whimpered.

John frowned "No Sherlock. Please not now!" John yelled out to the cab driver "St Bart's now!" John screamed "Please not now, not while i'm still alive"

Sherlock lay there, the tears no longer falling, a smile on his face. Still wrapped around John, he was happy; at peace.

 

 A doctor came, laying Sherlock onto a bed and looking at him, feeling for a pulse. "Doctor Watson..I am so sorry. There is nothing we can do"

 

John sank down to his knees, crying and sobbing. He couldn't believe this. He only had Sherlock Holmes for a few minutes and they he was taken away.

As John lay in the bed, holding the man who was growing colder by the second he heard a small voice, a man standing behind him. A young Sherlock stood there, smiling at him, holding out his hand. "Leave him John. Leave him and come with me. You are ready, ready to join me and run with me once more. Run together just as we did before."

 

John looked around and saw a younger Sherlock there. He was handsome and beautiful and just as perfect as John used to envision him to be". John nodded. " I don't want to live anymore. I don't want to live without you" John very slowly took his hand.

He squeezed John's hand, a warm smile on his face. "Come with me and you will never have to leave me again. All the pain and suffering you are feeling will be gone and replaced with the happiness you felt when we were young".

John nodded and smiled, tears coming down his face "I love you Sherlock. I don't want to leave you" he smiled and closed his eyes,. Waiting to go.

 Sherlock held John close, refusing to let him go again. "My John...my wonderful John...may we never have to say goodbye again" He said, kissing him softly as the pair of them vanished.  
  
When the doctor returned a short while later to tell John that it was time to leave he found the two men wrapped around each other. He sighed, a pang of sadness filling him as the reality of it all sunk in. He pulled the cover over the two men, making it look as it the pair of them were just sleeping. "John Hamish Watson...died of a broken heart" he whispered, walking out of the door, leaving them alone.......

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
